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Coronacoaster: Three Poems

Life, like bags under the eyes, 


Life, like bags under the eyes, 

Love, clear as water. 

A leaf on a branch, 

Child of sunlight. 

Little latticework of moments

Clean the cobwebs 

and the darkness

Of being

Alive.



Isms


Ladders leading upwards, 

Ground to sky. 

Are they opposite 

Or both the same? 

Two sides of a 

Single coin. 

Flip it

And see. 

Flip the racists too,

Let George be

At peace. 

Moon can’t shine

Without the sun.

It is all 

One. 

That said, I

Can still breathe.

My skin colour

Does not mark me as other.

For this, I am ashamed,

Of my unburnished hide,

Not for the shame piled upon us

As a race,

For being who we are.




Fifty Shades of Wanting


I want to be 

A wildman laughing in the hedgerows.


I want to see 

between the twisted undergrowth, 


To peep beneath

The purple curling vines and leaves of 


Green, and avocado,

Lime, acid, moss and fifty shades


Of home

And memories that make the hedge


I now 

Laugh wildly in, whilst breathing deep


Those hidden 

Weed scents that make me weep,


And snakes

Coiled deadly in the brambles


So long forgotten

Their roots so deep, 


Who knows 

where they begin and I end.



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